Nothing Else But You And Me
by dustyroses
Summary: The Eric/Hermione version of the famous "Is there blood in my hair?" scene. AU. HP/TB x-over.


"Are you sure you know how to use those?" Eric asked me playfully. As I brandished a pair of dull scissors and snipped the air in front of him, he appeared slightly afraid and not entirely convinced of my abilities. Admittedly, my proposition daunted both to him and me. I was just getting so _tired_ of him being such a messy eater, getting all that blood in his hair every time without fail. He called it habit. _I_ called it laziness and impatience, but it was not a character trait that he was willing to fix at all. Eric was, after all, over a thousand years old. Apparently by his terms because he's been living like this for the past millennium or so, it should be fine that I let him be; let him eat however the hell he wanted. I personally couldn't take it. I, Hermione Granger, could be called a total neat freak and without a doubt, a bit of a mysophobe. Any bit of mess frankly pissed me off so much. So I had to bring it up.

"You need a haircut!" I exclaimed, crossing my arms. "_You're_ the one who refuses to get a night-time barber to come over, and you're definitely too lazy to get out of your house on the weekends to get it trimmed, so I'm going to do it for you. You know how much I can't stand that curtain hanging all around your face. Just trust me with this, okay? I have this completely under control."

All right, I knew Eric trusted me anyway, but I liked putting him on the spot. It got his more good-humoured side out of its shell. Usually, given his position as an authority figure around Area 5, he didn't like looking vulnerable in any way. Especially on days – well, nights – when he had to deal with entertaining the worst of Shreveport tourists who wanted to touch him, wanted him to bite them, wanted him to _anything_ them...Eric was more grumpy when he got home. I'd learnt to adapt in that he only got over it after I made him laugh, or if we had fast and furious sex. The latter was no doubt enjoyable in its own right, but I wasn't going to do it every night. I wasn't superhuman. Eric used to tell me that in Fangtasia's younger days, he had to bite several girls (including Pam) throughout the night just to break even to get over the nauseating amount of fawning tourists. There we go; I definitely couldn't handle being bitten that many times. What seemed contradictory, though, was that in hindsight of the situation, I felt a bit angry after that little revelation, but he _definitely_ made up for it afterwards of course.

Living creatures sometimes don't know what they want, so sue me.

"Come here," he murmured and I could do nothing else. I had been standing by the foot of his large four-poster bed with the scissors in hand. I climbed up, crawling towards him. When we decided a relationship was what we wanted, Eric promised to never glamour me. However, I'm plainly and completely gone around him anyway that I doubt it would have made much of a difference if he did. Nothing was ever stunted with us, which was purely astounding; it was always so fluid and natural. Well, as natural as a relationship with a vampire could get.

I sat straddling his waist, hands on his chest as his fingers trailed up my bare arms and went in my hair. I was never very happy with the way my hair went everywhere. I was forever so self-conscious about it. It was too curly to be clipped down and I could only keep it tidy in a plait, which of course only aggravated the bushiness of it even more. Eric's own hair was beautiful though. It was long – came down to his shoulders now – and straight, and its colour was a mixture of thatch and light blond. I actually really liked it the way it was, even with my little fussy tendencies. Despite this, I had a strong urge to go through with what I had planned, his disgusting eating habits not even my point anymore. I was unsure what was, though. However the scissors were laid on the bed and lost somewhere in the sheets as his lips found mine almost desperately. His hands scrunched in my hair as he trailed wet, open-mouthed kisses along my jaw law and down the column of my neck.

"Wait," I whispered, holding his head – that beautiful blond head – in my hands and bringing his eyes to meet mine. I kept his gaze as I groped around in the dimness for the cutters. "I want to actually do this."

"You don't give up, do you?" Eric asked huskily, his eyelids heavy and a smirk playing on the corners of his mouth.

"You should know that by now," I answered teasingly, kissing him lightly on the nose before I got to work. "And you should also know that cheap tricks won't get me _that_ distracted."

"You get what you want."

"Why, yes I do."

I wouldn't call myself _terrible_ at makeovers, but then again I don't have enough experience to say I was an expert either. Eric didn't interrupt me as I snipped, shredded and trimmed. He kept his gaze unmoving on my face as I worked in silence, cutting away. I didn't pause for a breath until I was done either, and could only see my final 'masterpiece' when it was displayed entirely before me.

Genuinely, it wasn't bad. Sure, I'd cut a bit too much off the left side, but with his hair flopped over like that, people would be none the wiser. He looked different, which was what I liked. In my opinion, so much less menacing. I remembered when I first met him. He had worn his hair exactly as he had before my little idea. Back then, I was absolutely terrified, I remembered clearly. Over time, I had simply gotten used to it, but I was always curious and when I realised his messy eating habits, it became more of a necessity to get rid of it all that hair. I also didn't like how it tended to shield his eyes from me – those expressive blue orbs the colour of the sky. Now, whatever my reason was for wanting to get rid of those blond streaks, I had done it. My inner inquisitiveness has been satisfied. A little smile of semi-satisfaction crept over my face.

"Finished?" he hummed. I must have taken longer than I expected, for his voice was scratchy from disuse. I moved aside and let him go to my vanity to inspect my work. I discarded the scissors on the bedside table and waited eagerly for his response.

He was quick on the uptake. "I like it."

"You do?"

It was so hard to keep the surprise from my response. Eric was a sarcastic bastard more often than he should be. Even though he hardly was with me, I was still very paranoid.

"It's..._different_," he conceded, turning around to face me again. Jeez, I hated it when his expression was so unreadable. The only thing I could decipher from it was a little devilish twinkle and that had nothing to do with the job I had done! The bugger was only interested with what was in his pants right then.

"Are you _sure_ you like it?" I had to steer the conversation back the way it was. I began chewing on my bottom lip; a habit I had when I was nervous.

"I swear," he chuckled, joining me in bed once more. "It's fine."

"So I have skill? Do you think I should do my own?" I asked absentmindedly and abruptly, twirling an insufferable lock of my own chocolate curls.

"What? Why? Don't," Eric replied firmly. "I like it the way it is."

"It's a terrible mess-"

"How long have we been together?" he questioned.

"I- I honestly can't remember," I realised. "Seems like – this is _so_ cheesy – but it seems like forever to me."

"Unlike _you_, I actually pay attention," Eric laughed at me. I stuck my bottom lip out in a pout, and he caught it between his teeth and suckled slowly, making me moan slightly.

"Anyway, I have never had a problem with your hair. Ever," he reassured me after he pulled away.

"How can you say that when even _I_ hate my own hair?" I rolled my eyes. "I thought you were better at lying than that!"

Eric laughed. "I wasn't lying! You've been spending too many nights with Bill and Sookie."

We remained silent for awhile, just looking at each other contentedly. Goodness, I would have never imagined myself to feel this good with someone else so intimately. I was just that much of a cynic, I suppose.

"Can you believe it's been six months?" Eric whispered, his face only centimetres from my own. His fingers ran through my hair soothingly and shook the curls out.

My breath was caught in my throat. I couldn't answer for at that point I kissed him again. It was slow and deliberate – he enjoyed doing that – and it wasn't very long until he had me lying down and I had his shirt off. My nails dug channels into his cold back as he kissed me over my face and began nipping at the sensitive skin behind my ear.

"How much time till sunrise?" I found myself gasping.

"Doesn't matter, the room is protected," Eric mumbled against my skin, his mouth now on my collarbone. He pulled himself back up to face me, cupping my face in his hands. "Nothing matters. The rest of the world is dead. There's nothing else but you and me."

His tongue invaded my mouth and I just let him take over. Eric sat up again, pulling me with him until I was directly on him and _Merlin_, feeling him against myself almost shocked me the whole way into waves of pleasure. I began thrusting against him and heard him groan against my mouth. He then proceeded to strip me of what little clothing I had on previously – I learnt not to really make an effort when I saw him anyway because he surprisingly didn't care. He liked it better if I never applied makeup or dressed up in some fancy sexy outfit. He never objected per se, but he'd told me before that he found all those things distractions and hindrances. Eric clearly had a one-track mind all the time, in case nobody noticed.

He was keeping me on edge with his continuous, unrelenting kisses, licks and sucks over practically every inch of skin he could reach. It took awhile to get used to just how cold his body temperature naturally was, although when I did, it began to feel like the _best thing_ in the world. And at first, I let him do whatever, because I didn't know _what_ to do. Nowadays, we alternated dominance depending on how we felt and Eric seemed slightly more passive today. I took my chance and pushed him on his back, catching him by surprise and managing to pin his arms down. He was legions stronger than I was, and could take over the situation any time, but he knew I was feeling particularly brave that night and normally, I did not. Six months with a hormonal vampire basically taught me nothing about living a sexually active life. I was still the proper girl my parents drilled me to be. Most of the time.

I also rarely let him bite me. I wasn't scared that he would go too far – you know, and drain me – I just hated the feeling I got in the morning. I was slightly anaemic even before getting to know Eric and his penchant for biting, so I was always left ridiculously weak the morning after our dates. He somehow managed to control himself well during subsequent bed dates after I had told him of my little problem. Sometimes, though, I _needed_ to have his fangs in the side of my neck. It was the pain that led to the highest of highs. After the first time he bit me, I could totally relate to all the other 'fangbangers' out there even if I refused to identify myself as such. It was a derogatory term and besides, it wasn't as if I was with Eric just for sex. I loved him. He doesn't like me to say it all the time – that was his little Achilles' heel, like his biting was to me. He was afraid to be human sometimes, even though I knew he was capable of feeling like one. If he wasn't, I would have left him in a heartbeat. I think his job just required him to be completely emotionless all the time. I'd heard from Pam that in his younger days, he was much more open about his feelings. I suppose as time went on, vampires 'lose' their sense of humanity until someone came along and slapped them across the face with it. Before me – all this was according to Pam – apparently it was Sookie, although Bill never relinquished her. I came along a little while later and, well, the rest was history.

He got the upper hand again and flipped me over, since I wasn't paying attention. His passiveness was definitely all an act, the crafty bugger. The sensations he was causing in me were getting so strong that my thoughts were becoming more incoherent. His fangs clicked out and I didn't stop him, so he bit down hard on my jugular. Obviously, I had to scream. I don't care how many people claim you get used to vampire bites; I'll just be the first to say that I'll probably never will. Still, Eric got me over the edge so quickly whenever he did but he normally never stopped there. We don't take very long in our trysts; it was always simply repeated motion until we were _completely_ spent. However it seemed that tonight was full of differences. After we were over that first peak, we went no further and came down together, even though Eric was clearly still a loaded semi-automatic gun.

"You're beautiful," he suddenly whispered in my ear while he brought me into a tight embrace and rested his chin on my head.

"What?" I asked groggily.

"Are you being narcissistic asking me to repeat myself?" Eric laughed lightly. I slapped him flippantly on the arm.

"I'm just pointing out how utterly random that comment is."

"How so?" Eric enquired, pecking me lightly on the top of my head, before placing his chin over it again. "If I didn't already think that while making love to you, it kind of makes the act a bit redundant."

"You know what I mean," I sighed, disentangling myself from his arms and rolling on my stomach to face him. "You're not used to talking about your feelings. You _do_ stuff to show me what they are, you don't say anything about them."

"I suppose you have a point," Eric smiled. "But tonight you seemed like you needed to hear that."

"Why?"

"You kept going on about your hair, you never do that! Well, not to me anyway," he pointed out.

I had to look away. I had a proclivity for being so bloody obvious, hadn't I?

"Tell me," he said. It wasn't even a request; more like a command.

"I...I don't know," I sighed a second time, burying my face in the disarray of pillows and sheets. Eric drew his quilt over us and lay in my position, but his head turned towards me. His arm was draped over my back.

"Does this even have to do with hair?" he murmured into my ear, sending good chills down my spine. I didn't move though. I found that I couldn't.

"Hermione-"

"I just like being in control of things," I cut in quickly, knowing that if I didn't I would never tell him ever again. "I don't like the feeling that there's some part of me I can't even keep at bay. It makes me wonder about the rest of my life and-"

"So you cut my hair?" Eric asked. It wasn't as vindictive a question as it sounded though. He was merely trying to piece together that thousand-piece puzzle that was my current train of thought.

"That's a different thing. It has nothing to do with me," I exclaimed. "Or maybe it does. I-"

All my insecurities were slowly trickling out. There was still that dam though – my mouth. Nothing acceded to flow freely.

"I don't know how to explain myself." I threw my hands up in the air in exasperation.

"Try."

"You still scare me sometimes," I revealed, only presently realising how much of a time bomb I had been the past six months. "But I still love you anyway. I figured at least some things are fixable if you let me. And you did. It reminds me how much you care and I shouldn't have to worry anyway – you won't hurt me – but I still feel afraid. I've seen how you can be like and I know if I keep looking at you the way you once was, I wouldn't be able to go on with this. With us. Merlin, my explanation sucks. You scare the life out of me, Eric, and I know you can do good things too-"

"But you needed the change to keep us going," Eric whispered and filled in all my gaps where I was getting nowhere. "Even if it's just with the way I look."

"Yes. If any of that made any sense," I laughed in relief, rolling on my back and covering my face with my palms.

"I forget just how human you are sometimes," Eric smiled and removed my hands, kissing me lightly. "I have my faults too, you know. I guess it comes from living for so damn long. I've learnt to adapt to way too many routines. And I overlook a lot of things."

"I love you anyway," I blurted out, looking right at him. If vampires could blush, Eric totally would have.

"And I love you, no matter what."

Coming from him, it meant so much.

"And Hermione," Eric added. "I might need to change some things about myself but you never have to. Not your hair, not your...inadequacy at explaining yourself, not anything. Everything makes you all the more quirky. Interesting. And beautiful."

I could feel tears in my eyes as he bent to kiss me again, and we went on till daybreak.

* * *

**A/N:** What did you think? I would love to hear your feedback on this. It was a little plot bunny hopping around my (supposed-to-be-studying) brain and if I didn't get it out now, I would've lost it completely. Anyone heard the song "Samson" by Regina Spektor? That was the song that served as so much inspiration for this little one-shot.

Biggest thing to clear up is I'm ignoring that vampire anything grows back (a la Jessica's hymen). This is all in good fun anyway. Inconsistency? Pfft ;)

And before anyone asks, this is an AU story, but in a different setting to my novel piece, _Deadly in Every Way_. So this story is clearly more of a stand-alone.


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